


We Walked in Clouds

by hearts_blood



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Hugs, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-06
Updated: 2012-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-30 17:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/334143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearts_blood/pseuds/hearts_blood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before the memorial service for the Markab people, Captain Sheridan comforts the Minbari ambassador as best he can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Walked in Clouds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kungfuwaynewho](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kungfuwaynewho/gifts).



> kungfuwaynewho asked for "John/Delenn, cuddle, post-'Confessions and Lamentations', after the Markab death chamber thing." A bit depressing, but I think that's understandable, given the subject matter.

Delenn thought she had seen death on a grand scale before. The long years of the war had been little more than a parade of corpses, charred red-black bodies against the crisper blackness of deep space. Recorded reports of massacres and mass graves from every Human colony and outpost that the military had decimated. After a year of fighting, Delenn stopped paying attention to such reports. They disgusted her deeply, but in truth, the subject matter had become tedious, almost commonplace. She found the scenes of torture and the lamentations of the afflicted... boring.

She understood the scope of the death she had caused, until the sheer magnitude of it had overwhelmed her. But she had never known the touch of death before, not like this. "'The dark angel,' they called the _drafa_ ," she said to the man in Earthforce dress uniform, as they stood together in the corridor. "As if the disease was a presence that moved among them, taking them one by one until there were none left to take."

"The Markabs believed they would be safe."

"They walked in clouds, and could not see their way." _None of us could,_ Delenn heard her younger self whisper. "But they should not have died for that."

She felt queerly disconnected from her words, still, and vaguely thought she was merely speaking to fill the silence that stretched between them as they waited for the rest of the command staff to arrive for the memorial service. It had been Dr. Franklin's idea to hold this remembrance for his friend, the Markab doctor who had willingly sacrificed his life to save his people, and no matter that the sacrifice had ultimately proved futile. The germ of the idea had sprouted into a ceremony to honor the memory of the entire race. A noble undertaking.

Delenn had no notion of what she meant by the words she had spoken. But strangely, Captain Sheridan—John—seemed to understand. "Being a soldier, you get used to... no, that's not right. I guess you shouldn't really ever get used to people dying around you. But you learn how to cope with it, store up the bad stuff until you can let it out someplace safe, and just concentrate on the job. But having an entire race just..." John took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "That's beyond me."

It had been beyond Delenn had one point as well, long ago, in a time before she would have thought of such things at all. And yet now it had happened twice. That she had done nothing to cause this second tragedy, had in fact tried in her small way to mitigate the sufferings of the dying, seemed to count for very little just then.

"Hey." The captain touched her arm lightly. "You okay?"

His face was open, friendly. Concerned. It seemed inexpressibly strange to Delenn that this Human, of all Humans... No. No, actually, it did not seem strange at all. "Not really. At the moment... I would very much appreciate 'someplace safe.'"

He stepped forward awkwardly, but Delenn closed the last few steps of empty space between them and laid her head on his shoulder. John's arms around her, the weight of his cheek against her crest and hair, felt the same—strange and not-strange, foreign yet familiar, and for one pure moment there was no time to speak of, no death to fear, no partings or sadness.


End file.
